Run: 2026-07-07-01KWZ5YP3DVTE8Y0YTF8K35WHP

Molly spread the blueprint across the kitchen table, weighting the corners with a stolen garden gnome and half a brick of aged cheddar. "This is the target," she said, tapping a crayon-drawn map of the Henderson residence. "Birthday party. Seven-year-old. Forty guests. Bouncy castle in the backyard." Bill squinted at the wobbly lines. "This looks like it was drawn by a child." "It was. I paid the kid next door fifty bucks and a juice box for intel." "That's dark, Molly." "That's thorough." She pulled out a blurry photograph. "Presents will be stacked here, in the living room, beside the cake. Expected haul: forty-seven packages. Estimated value: three thousand dollars minimum. Lots of Lego sets this year." Bill whistled. "That's a lot of plastic bricks." "We go in during the magic show. The parents will be distracted, kids hypnotized by some guy in a cape." Molly chewed her pen cap. "You'll enter through the side gate, I'll cover the front. We meet at the loot pile, bag everything, and slip out before the cake cutting." "What about the bouncy castle?" "What about it?" "Could be a good escape route. Bounce over the fence." Molly stared at him. "You're forty-six years old, Bill." "I'm spry." "You threw your back out reaching for the remote last Tuesday." "That remote was far." Molly sighed and circled the backyard on the map. "We avoid the bouncy castle. We avoid the clown, the magician, and especially the golden retriever. Mrs. Henderson's dog has a nose like a bloodhound and the temperament of a honey badger." "What about disguises?" Molly reached under the table and pulled out two brightly colored party hats, each with a little elastic chin strap. "We go in as caterers." "Caterers don't wear party hats." "These caterers do. They're very festive caterers. Distractingly festive." She placed one on her head. "See? You'd never suspect me." Bill put on the other hat. It drooped to one side. "I look like a depressed elf." "Perfect. Nobody suspects a depressed elf." Molly checked her watch. "Party starts at two. Magic show at three. We move at three-fifteen. Any questions?" "What if the dog smells us?" "Pocket full of hot dogs." "What if a kid sees us?" "Pocket full of candy. Toss it in the opposite direction and watch them scatter like pigeons." "What if the magician asks us to participate in a trick?" Molly paused. "That won't happen." "It could. You never know with magicians. They're wild cards." Molly pinched the bridge of her nose. "If a magician asks us to participate, Bill, you politely decline, and we abort the mission. I am not getting trapped in a human pyramid by a guy named Gerald who does kids' parties on weekends." Bill adjusted his party hat. "Fair enough. But if there's a bouncy castle situation—" "There won't be." "Hypothetically—" "No bouncy castle, Bill." He nodded slowly, still eyeing the blueprint. "Just saying, it's a tactical asset we shouldn't ignore." Molly downed the rest of her coffee. "Let's move. The Hendersons' sprinkler system runs at one-thirty. We need to be in position before the lawn gets wet." "Wouldn't want to slip," Bill said. "Wouldn't want to slip," Molly agreed. They grabbed their bags and headed for the door, two professionals about to rob a child's birthday party, party hats bouncing with every step.